Santa Versus Wesker: As told by Claire Redfield
by Cassend
Summary: ...and this time Chris did get up to attempt some persuasion. And suddenly there came a seemingly random and uncoordinated Christmas pile drive through the table into his face.  Cracky Holidays


_ABC- Collab with CANNIBALCOBRA as a "OH FUCK CAN WE PULL THIS OFF IN TWO HOURS." pure crack. Pure unadulterated crack. _

_ Happy Holidays!  
><em>

_Dedicated to our friends.  
>and mainly us because we wanted to have fun and we did and iloveyouclurcrackhead. ENJOY.<br>_

**_Santa Versus Wesker_**

- An Epic Retelling in the fashion of "T'was the Night Before Christmas"-

December 24th was a time of merriment, a time when people laughed, drank, ate copious amounts of foodstuffs and opened wrapped packages from the relatives. Oh, but there was a dark side to this famous day, this "Christmas Eve". Claire Redfield knew that side of her well. It was a lot of "shit I have to BUY stuff for these people I don't really know (about a dozen or so she had worked with at some point in time)", and a lot of hand shaking.

A LOT of hand shaking.

Fate had it in for her each year on this day, and this year in particular, fate was kicking her over the doorstep of her brother's Christmas Party/ _"Welcome back to life Jill festival Extravaganza"_. Normally she wouldn't have been so nervous standing on her brother's doorstep with a huge plate of assorted Chips Ahoy cookies and a Santa hat hanging off her head. Normally she was relaxed, but this wasn't JUST the friends, this was the darkest, deepest pit of scary.

This was the party where he invited _the coworkers_.

They were all intimidating creatures that were hardened from life. Buff guys, more buff guys, Barry and his wife. Something the youngest Redfield was not, she wasn't a brute. She had little in common with these people._ 'Think happy thoughts. Breatheeeee,'_ she reassured herself and then looked around. The place was decorated serenely enough. The smell of pine was heavy in the room, wafting from the large tree in the corner with an assortment of bulbs and ornaments on it. A nice fire in the fire place.

The shots of eggnog began.

Jill, Miss-Back-from-the-dead- Valentine sat by the couch, sober, watching all the action and looking fabulous in her red turtleneck and black slacks. Chris was somewhere, floating about the party, being manly with the manly men in dress shirts and such. Claire decided, after too many conversations about different types of insurance once could possibly get, that she was much better off plopping right beside miss gorgeous zombie Valentine and bringing with her a surplus of eggnog. Three shot glasses and one full pitcher.

Jill looked right at her. "This will only end well."

"Nice to see you too." Claire laughed and shrugged.

"Hey! It's Christmas, we can have fun too," Claire told her friend with a little grin. The devil within the Redfield was beginning to show. She poured all three glasses and kicked one back. The night was still young. The party would be fun yet. Jill looked over at Claire, the seemingly-innocent brunette with a ponytail poking out of her Santa hat. "What harm can it do?" Claire asked and grabbed another. "Down the hatch!"

And down another went. And another, and another. To the point where the conversation turned abruptly to a deep discussion of the various rivers of Mesopotamia, and after the shots exceeded drunk countable range, that conversation just turned into Claire spasming in fits of hysterical giggles. The chestnuts were roasting on an open fire, Chips Ahoy were being gobbled up with eggnog, and Chris was doing a terrible Terminator impression in the kitchen. It was definitely Christmas Eve.

When out of nowhere (or out of nowhere to the giggling mess on the couch) came that dear old Leon Scott Kennedy, a book under his arm.

"OH" Claire gasped and breathed to stop the hysterics from coming. "Leon hey!"

"What's that?" Claire slurred and moved like a blob. She had no bones, she felt so free. She stole the book right out from the hands Leon Kennedy. "Twas the Night Before Christmas?" Jill wondered out loud. She eyed the brown cover and pondered the story beneath. "I thought we could have a reading," Leon explained. "Let's call everybody in here."

"But who's gonna read it?" Jill questioned slowly. It had been close to three years since she'd seen any traditions, or had a real Christmas. The idea was sweet. Claire raised her hand and stood. "I will!"

And both Jill and Leon stared with the full assumption that this would not be achievable. Leon brushed back that quirky scythe of hair, freeing his bangs, and tapped the fuzzy rim of Claire's hat.

"Claire, you are dead drunk." he said, completely straightfaced.

Jill slipped the book from Claire's floppy arms and opened it. "I've got this, no worries."

Leon gave that Kennedy smirk and nodded, rallying the troops all the way from upstairs bathroom to downstairs cellar. The cozy room filled up, the chattering was jovial and lighthearted. Claire pouted and whined under all the background noise. After an announcement to the masses, the agreement was mutual, a brand new tradition was going to be marked by this day. Chris weaseled through and planted himself beside his sister, who insistently told him that "they got the story all wrong". He laughed and told her she'd had one too many.

Jill cleared her throat, and the crackling of the fire and some dim radio music was all that was heard.

"Twas the night before Christma-"

"Oh hell no." Claire snapped, leaping up to her jelly feet and nearly falling over. "Now you all are going to listen, because that book's full of stupid."

Everyone exchanged looks to everyone else, and most of the populous gaped.

"Every year!" Claire raised her index finger to the sky. She hiccuped, adjusted her hat and continued. "You people settle for these... fictitious stories! ... That aren't real! Well, this story is HALF real and I know what REALLY happened. I present to you, ladies and gentlemen, THE REALY REAL STORY."

There was silence. Absolutely nobody knew what to say. Claire took this as good sign and began.

"Twas the night before Christmas and all through the world.

The sanity of many began to unfurl!"

Jill leaned over and quietly asked Leon how she managed to rhyme so well drunk.

"The zombies were hanging from here and from there!" she cried, moving her arms and flailing them like limp noodles, wiggling about of their own accord.

"THIS IS THE STORY, AND ITS NAME IS **CLAIRE**." She punctuated with a twist of her wrist. She threw her hands up, completely oblivious to the absolutely mortified looks from Leon and Chris, and fell forward, grabbing the coffee table with an absurd amount of force. Everyone jumped, a little bit nervous for the table's sake.

Chris went to get up and Jill pulled him back down by his neatly ironed collar, with a smirk on her face and the idea that it really couldn't get any worse. She grinned and he generated every form of "What?" possible with his body language.

"I was THERE, I tell you!" Claire slurred out, pointing at the crowd and singling them out "YOU, YOU, YOU, You and YOU were NOT there. AND I WAS."

There was the silence of the grave on the partygoers, broken by an awkward chomping of an excessively crispy chip. Claire, in all of her drunken might, slapped one foot atop the table and proudly proclaimed. "The children were cowering in the covers of their beds- but as for the rest of em', they were all just stone dead!"

Jill snorted into her hand to stop the laugh, because that was a horrible thing to laugh at.

"And Chris in his 'kerchief, and I in my cap-" Claire's eyes glazed over, a moronic smile curving onto her mouth. She lurched back, but kept her balance. "And I remember that cap too. It was pink, you guys! Hey... where was I?"

Nobody answered, they just watched in awe. Some were even feeling embarrassed for the Redfield now, but there was no stopping this tale. _This epic adventure that would not fail._

"As I was sayin' before I was RUDELY interrupted… thanks Chris."

Chris mouthed "What?" and limply held his hands at his sides. Jill snagged it and squeezed.

"And Chris in his 'kerchief, and I in my- pink- cap!

Add then a smidge of a Wesker, in a volcanic gap!"

She grabbed a half full glass from the stand to her side. Her brow narrowed and her smirk grew. "From the lawn projected such a bloody splatter," she threw the glass, sending someone's ice water all over the room. "And I ran from my bike to see what was the matter!"

The mob mentality was kicking in, and now everyone was embarrassed, and some were wet. Someone tried to mutter "hey" over the low chatter, but that just died. Jill held her laughter in despite the current social catastrophe, and Chris was absolutely not amused. Claire was having a grand old time "running" from her bike, which was more like hobbling with erratic arm motions.

She walked the perimeter of the table with a giggle, and this time Chris did get up to attempt some persuasion. And suddenly there came a seemingly random and uncoordinated Christmas pile drive through the table into his face. The poor furniture piece toppled, all of its contents spilling to the floor. He bit his lip and swore loudly as eggnog and stupid seeped into his carpet.

"I jumped through the window like shit was so cash!" she cheerfully added, rolling about and crawling up to her feet. Jill started laughing; Leon hid his face behind his palm.

"Tore holes in the ground and then fell on my ass!" she cackled, and swept her arms in the air as if preparing for the next epic battle.

Feet planted on the floor, she wobbled and swayed. She didn't notice Chris who was cursing now nor did she see the surprised look on everyone's face. "The moon on the breast of the red-stained snow... HAHA oh my god!" she snorted, most unladylike and cupped her chest. "I just said breast! But it's IN THE BOOK."

"Claire, I think you should sit down!" Chris gritted through his teeth. She had none of that and got back on the much more important track. The coworkers laughed and applauded.

"The moon on the breast of the red-stained snow... And my brother on the roof, while I, down below…

_What_ in the ominous darkness should appear? But the infamous Wesker, half naked, still queer."

Less than half than HALF the people even knew the half of the half of this story. That mediocre number of people blinked numbly at the mention of a "half naked Wesker", and everyone else just urged her on. Her audience was hooked, they started to chuckle amongst themselves. Chris glared at the small cluster and stated firmly "NO".

"Aw, come on! What'd ya do to that Wasker or...whatever?"

She swerved on her feet. "WELL.. A leather-clad villain so blonde and so quick-" she began, taking a deep breath and cocking her head to the side. "...um, OH."

Leon intervened. "Claire, maybe he's right-"

The entirety of the audience completely ignored him and instead urged her on. She giggled and belched, jumping into the messiest "fighting stance" any of them had ever seen. Again, Leon's palm met his nose.

"And I stupidly screamed "suck my damn dick!"

The audience roared, clapping and applauding this.

"Raging and burned from the volcano he came!"

She drug her nails over her cheeks and made "fire noises", to which Jill bent over and just started laughing hysterically. "Ah-haha! Yeah, that's him!"

Chris gaped at her. "You're ENCOURAGING THIS?"

"And he sneered and he grimaced and called us by name!"

"NOW CHRIS! NOW CLAIRE! NOW DEAR HEART AND REDFIELD!" Claire exclaimed. Her performance was that of perfection, he voice was hard in imitation. "Curse earth and curse humans and damn all that is said"

Her expression shifted as she tried to think of the one word that rhymed with Redfield, and pointed at a spectator, screaming. "YEILD!"

She turned her head dramatically to each side, looking for someone that wasn't there. "He watched another figure on the top of the wall," she hissed. Everyone hung onto her last word waiting for the woman to speak. She took off her hat and pointed at it. "A man clad in red and a hero to ALL."

"Santa set his lasers, he was ready to fight!"

Chris was horrified when Jill chimed in "Yeah! Santa!"

Even more horrified when everyone responded in turn the same way. Someone cried "WAIT and did something ill advisable by handing a very drunk Claire the latest in boredom killing phone technology, a phone with a "Laser Sounds" soundboard. Claire hoisted the phone high in the air and whooped. Jill cackled madly.

"-For no one would ruin his Christmas this night!"

"The Tyrant and Santa met with fire and cheer!" Claire cried, and to that, Jill hollered a "here, here!" and jumped beside her, imitating the "fire noises." Christopher melted in his palms, shaking his head and "hiding".

Jill laughed and took the hat from her friend. Claire swayed and leaned on her, hoisting the "lasers" up in the air and firing off shot after shot. The crowd cheered at the addition.

"For once, Albert Wesker had something to fear!" said a giddy, spirited Valentine. She whipped the hat on and posed, "fighting" the invisible Wesker with calls of "you go girl!" from the background.

"With a bundle of toys in a weaponized sack! -AH DID THAT SOUND DIRTY TO ANYBODY?" Claire trilled out and slurred, babbling on, her tongue having a mind of its own. "Santa bashed open his head with a dutiful smack!"

Jill made a show of prancing up to a poor potted plant and pretending to swing a massive bag at it. Claire fired off the lasers once again!

There was a severely pregnant pause then, about 9 months and way too many overdue days pregnant, enough to have everyone, even Leon, staring and waiting in silence. Jill stared at her, Chris even plucked his drooping expression up to stare at her. The crackling of the fire was too much.

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight!" she finally finished, firmly nodding to Jill and taking her hand, an incredibly grave look on her face.

"You may **NOW** kiss the bride." she blurted, and then without fail, fell right forward and unconscious on Jill's slippered feet.

Everyone started clapping.


End file.
